Shake-Out

We woke up to what we knew would be a long, long rainy day. We packed up the kids and headed down to the beach so that they could move their miserableness to a different house.

After checking in for the Long Beach Island 18 Mile Run I found the chance to get out for a quick shake-out 4 miles. Loosened up quickly and felt decent enough, but the foot pain was there. I guess there is no hiding from this running issue.

So... I'll load up a few bottles of my maple syrup, salt, and water mix, throw on my Altras and head out down the long, straight road. I will be looking to find an even pace that I can sustain for as long as possible and see how it all plays out.

That Night I Dreamt of Rocks

"Philistines may think that we were madmen indeed to go through such suffering and danger to arrive at this lonely spot. What did you hope to find up there, they may ask. Glory? Nobody cares about young fools who waste their best years in meaningless combats far from the eyes of the world. Fortune? Our clothes were in rags, and the next day we would go back down to a life of slaving for the barest essentials. What we sought was the unbounded and essential joy that boils in the heart and penetrates every fibre of our being when, after long hours skirting the borders of death, we can hug life to us with all our strength." - Lionel Terray

I hit my time to taper down. Felt odd in that I was not really doing heavy mileage to begin with, but I knew that it was better to be under-trained than over. At least this is what I told myself each night as I tried to fall asleep.

I was under-trained. That was understood.

But would I be able to use the accumulation of miles over the last year and a half to get my ass through three rough ten+ mile loops. The race was put on by Rick at NJ Trail Series. I had run a few of their races before and found them to be well managed, well stocked, and tough.

Could I do it? One loop. Absolutely. I even imagined I could get through it quickly if necessary. Two, sure. Three… unknown.

That is the fun with doing a first ultra. One does not know how the day will go until one is deeply embedded in the situation. That is when you begin to understand what is possible.

So in my downtime where I wasn't running as much, I had to do something race related. I prepped. I pulled materials together and planned the nutrition strategy. I went through the hydration. Clothing needs, socks, shoes, contingencies. Over and over I laid it out and convinced myself that it was happening.

Night before the race I put it all out in the guest bedroom. I knew I’d be up at 4am packing it up and getting ready for the car trip to the start line. I could have done it in the dark by that point.

Like always, I got there early. The sun had not crested the hills yet as the first batch of runners left the start/finish line area. This group consisted of the few running the 100k (six loops) and a larger group taking on the 50 miler (five loops). There was an hour for nervous pacing and prepping before we 50k (three loops) runners lined up.

I had heard Rick’s start-line prep talk before. As he has mentioned on other courses, you aren't running by GPS distance, you are running his course. Don’t complain if is it is longer/shorter, rocky or rooty.

Loop one felt okay. It was hard but well within my wheelhouse. After the yelled "go!" we were off along a grassy stretch next to the road before we turned and headed up a rocky ATV road that headed into the Wildcat Ridge Management Area. After a brief climb we were onto some undulating single track that wound through the woods through weird Appalachian-style garbage dumps. Sadly, it reminded me of dump areas you would find in some backwoods areas of Vermont where I grew up. Eventually the trail climbed up and up as it made its way to the open ridge line. Few seemed to take in the overlook on the first pass, we were still bunched so it was hard to stop and smell the flowers. I did stop and pause on loop three on the cliff's edge for thirty seconds before heading off for the finish.

After the first top out along the ridge we wound down a rocky dirt road to the first water station (mile four & nine). From here we headed out into the real nonsense. Up and down and up and down through rocks that ranged from small and unstable to large and unstable. There didn't seem to be a piece of flat footing for four miles. I believe I thought this was interesting on the first lap. It got progressively more miserable on the second and third pass. Eventually the "Nam" business calmed down and we hit more rutty dirt road. We then moved onto a bizarre paved, steep downhill spell through a quite suburban neighborhood until we were eventually back at the start line.

Still feeling good at this point

I hit the full aid station in good shape. Reloaded my bottles, grabbed more gels and quickly took off for the next pass.

Loop two started strong. What I found, though, was that as I came upon each hill, each rocky descent, I had to suffer through the thought that I would have to do this one more time on much more tired legs.

It was a few miles into the second ten that something got out of whack. The sun came up higher in the sky and the temp began to climb. I found myself needing to drink more. I guess I let my salt levels go south because at around mile seventeen the cramping began.

Pain begins as a manageable force. It grows along the way. Eventually it becomes all encompassing but still something that you can push out and move through. I knew that it was either going to get much worse or I was going to find a way to let it dissipate.

The pain became comprehensive. I couldn't ignore it anymore as the fire worked from deep inside my hips down to the tips of my toes. My mind burned with it and I found myself emotional and foggy. You begin to question that damage that is being inflicted with each step, to the point where I found that I could barely take the steps. My legs were seizing up. I was at a very uncomfortable trot, a shuffle. I was deep into the death march.

I ran (walked) miles nineteen to the aid station contemplating calling it a day. I would be at my car. I could rehydrate, get things back in balance, sit and end the pain.

At the aid station I stood in front of the food not sure what to do next. Someone asked me if I was okay. I said no, not at all. Explained the problem. She forced some salt tablets down my throat. Put some fantastic salty chips in my hand. Told me to regroup until I was ready then get my ass back out there.

I sat next to my car for a few minutes going through a quit in my head. It just wasn't going to work. I couldn't comprehend it. I sent a quick text to my wife telling her that I was in a bad way but was going to walk the damn thing if I had to. I took off before I could get a response.

For loop three, I had the pleasure of knowing that everything I was doing would be the last time. It didn't mean that things were easier though. As my body balanced itself out, I found that I could trot some sections, hiking the steep stuff. I eventually came upon a fifty miler (I believe her name was Lara). When I told her that I was in a world of hurt, she laughed it off and told me that I looked great. That little bit of reassurance was what I need to keep the pace up to get me across the line. She and I ran off and on together for the last few miles. I mentally attached myself to her and felt like she was dragging me in.

10,000+ feet of elevation change. I got there in 7:47:11. A few minutes under my target.

I immediately started to feel better the moment I crossed the line on the pavement. I did not have to run anymore that day, and now I knew that I could do just about anything I put my mind to. I just wouldn't be doing much for the new few weeks.

Some of the gear that got me through:

Shirt - Proudly wore my Altra Ambassador shirt. After the race I had a few conversations about the shoes. I believe it came from me wearing the shirt because it definitely wasn't because of my stellar results (or form).
Shoes - Altra Lone Peak 1.5. Best mountain shoe on the market in my opinion. I thought my feet would be wrecked, but they didn't have a mark on them.
Socks - Injinji Run 2.0 Original Weight. Coupled with the roomy Altra's, these toe socks have saved me from blisters, damaged nails, and otherwise bloody feet.
Bottle - Ultimate Direction Fast Draw Plus. Packed it with Gu's and flattened pieces of sandwich.
Waste Pack - Some small Nathan pack I picked up that fit about five more Gu's.
Nutrition - About 15 Gu's, a few pieces of PB&J, some chips, and a few bottles of Fluid Performance drink.
Hydration - The Fluid and either too much or not enough water. Very rarely did I get the balance right.

Pro Compression Sleeves

Just got a pair of compression sleeves from Pro Compression in the mail. I've heard talk of how effective compression wear can be for endurance athletes, and also I've read the opposing studies.

My legs were stiff from a few tough runs this week. Slipped the sleeves on and cooked dinner. I was shocked to feel the difference in how my calves felt.

Won't say that I am converted, but I will have to try them a few more times over the next few days and runs to see if they really make a difference.

What I'm (Nolonger) Running In - Nike Free 3.0 Shoe Review

I had always intended to put some posts together that went through some of the shoes/gear that I play around with in my running. The point of these posts was that I wanted to write about what I'm using and hopefully liking. It was not in the plan to spend that much time looking at what I am no longer using, but the Free changed my mind.

The Nike Free 3.0's were given to me from a co-worker. They were a sample pair that didn't fit him, so he passed them on to me knowing that while I run I also obsess about the shoes and other gear.

Free shoes so I did not mind the color

I started running in these as I was recovering from some ITB pain that travelled with me through most of the summer. I used them for some mid-length runs at first. While I enjoyed the feel of the shoe, there was something about the upper that always made me take some time away from them.

During my hot summer runs, I found that the neoprene-type upper worked like sweat bags on my feet. There was no way for the feet to cool down. This has been a significant complaint that I've seen everywhere the shoes are reviewed. My problem with hot feet is that the wet friction starts to tear my toes apart. I somehow seemed to forget the pain, because I eventually took the shoes for a nine mile run in the sun. When I got back, I found a puddle of blood and the start of what would become a black nail.

The blood bath. Looked much worse when I first removed the shoe. Lost the toenail a few weeks later.

Another "challenge" I found with the shoe was the flex point on the top of my foot near the first knuckle on my big toes. The too thick upper creased consistently in the same spot, mixing with oil and sweat, digging a little hole in each foot. Now, I seem to be left with a permanent scar.

Recently, I took them out of the closet again for a short, easy run. After a few months in shoes with larger toe boxes (Altra Intsinct 1.5's), I quickly remembered why the shoes had collected dust. I bled for the first time in months. The spots on top of my toes were raw again. I can appreciate the fact that shoes can only fit as well as the design of the feet within them, but I would guess that few find the swimsuit effect comfortable. This would be the last time I would run in the Free's.

The split sole. Flexible and pillowy soft

This is really too bad. Nike obviously has the resources to design and test the perfect shoe, but something is missing here. Another reason to feel regret over torching these shoes in an oil drum on the street is that the outsole is great. Responsive, flexible, pillowy soft. You feel the ground but do not spend the majority of the run wishing it wasn't there below you.

When I first came back to running seriously, I went through a bit of a shoe romance, collecting many models, trying different types and feels. Now I just want a shoe that fits and feels good every time I put them on. Bring on Altra.

Winter Running

Whether running in extreme winter (or extreme heat in my opinion), the toughness that comes from running through these conditions is undeniable. This is a great, short article from Scott Jurek on the positives that come from continuing to push yourself when winter comes.

Personally, I find it's harder to get out there but ends up being a much more rewarding run when I know I've suffered a bit in the process. I like getting out in the cold. You may even hear me brag about it now and then.

The Long Year

I'm working on a post with the same title over at I Did Get Fun. My other blog (one in a growing list of distraction blogs) features my details on raising a very active, inquisitive, sometimes challenging toddler. Not too different from managing my running life.

The long year. It captures all aspects of my life over the last 12 months. Of course I'm aware that the year can be neither longer nor shorter than what the year is. It just is the length of time that it is. On the other hand, the way it feels is the way it was perceived, and it felt long.

I started running again this year. It was hard at first. Then it was fun and exciting. Then I discovered the overuse injury. I recovered, then re-injured myself. Now, as I get back to full health, I spend a great part of every day thinking about and mentally planning my next outing. 

Because of my early-rising little guy (see blog link above), I have found that I have to get out long before the sun crests the skyline if I want to get some time on my feet. With each day it gets colder and darker, so the process becomes more drawn out; 

• Alarm rings - I fumble with the watch, then stare at the ceiling wondering why I do this. I flash through excuses and reasons to get just a little more sleep before he wakes
• Run starts - I stagger my way through dressing and shoe tying. I hit the cold air and take off. The first 10 minutes are spent questioning why I am doing this
• Middle section of the run - My mind goes quiet and I forget what I was thinking. Most likely the only "silence" I will experience all day
• The close - Run my ass off to finish things so I can get inside. The runners high is a real thing. Sometimes I feel that I could put my hand through a brick wall
• Rest of the day - Thinking about doing it again

It's the same every time. So, I cannot imagine that 2013 will be any different. In place of the standard resolution setting that comes with the close of each year, this time I am going to focus on a few goals. I have another long, most likely harder year in store for me (and my family). I won't need to stop doing things. I will need to start being more efficient with what I choose to do.

A move is in the books. I am looking forward to our first house in a new town. A trail head sits just a half-mile down the road. But, I am well aware that there will be a significant amount of work ahead of me. This will mean less free time and more lawn mowing.

On the subject of free-time, we have a new one on the way. Raising a little guy has been the hardest, most fulfilling thing we have done together. My wife and I just barely survived our first little bad sleeper. Let's hope that number 2 likes naps.

And in this mix, I want to throw some new running projects. New races and endurance runs to challenge what I think I can handle (now on even less sleep). 

I want to run for LBI, our summer community devastated by Storm Sandy. I want to set a PR or two, and I want to tackle the longer version of Mountain Madness. Going into the race this last September, I never believed I could move for that long over that type of terrain. Now that I know that I can, I want to do it again, and do it over 50 kilometers. 

I want to bring my son into all of this and teach him the trails, get him to love being out in the woods as much as I do. 

I want to find happiness in my job. I will need to find more time, or better use of it, so that I can be there for family and friends.

I want to keep demanding more of myself... keep pushing my limits just out of reach. Hopefully,  I won't find them in 2013.

Runblogger Reviews the new Altra's

Peter Larson from the runblogger site reviews the newest version of the Altra Instict (the 1.5's). I started running in them myself and am becoming a devoted fan. Even more so as we get into the winter months when I need a little more cold weather protection.

While they are not really minimalist, the zero drop and very roomy toe box has alleviated some pretty severe toe blisters that I suffered over the summer. A great shoe. I'm contemplating making these my long distance shoe.

After I put more miles on them, I will work up a review of my own.

The Birthday Run

Read an interesting article on the idea of the birthday run. One mile for every year.

As I approach the final five months into my 40th, I've started to get a bit sentimental. Too many years wasted on soured relationships, self-inflicted pain, late career climbing and generally difficult living. 

The pain of the run has helped me clear my mind and settle into middle age knowing that there is a chance for some type of physical and mental redemption. I have been living in repair mode for the last few months, but think I can get there by May.

I will dedicate this run to wasted youth.

Galaxie 500 song below captures it nicely.

Keeping to Plan

I like a plan. I scope out my running week in terms of miles. Now that I am recovering from a summer of knee pain, I am trying to add small amounts of mile increases on some of my slow runs.

I learned my lesson back in May, when my excitement with my new found love of running had me pushing up my mileage too quickly. Eventually, I stressed out my system and it all fell apart.

10% increases now. Slow build. Listen to the body for sighs of fatigue.

One thing I have trouble accounting for is an ornery toddler who is not too fond of sleeping. Pre-dawn running on 2 to 3 hours of sleep is tough.. more like the act of getting out of bed and starting the process in the dark.

So, I'm off plan today and it will be picking at me all day.

Setting Goals

By Steve Peterson

Shortly after I started running again a friend told me to sign up for a race. Put them on your calendar. "They keep you honest", he said.

For someone like me who was slowly building to some adequate level of endurance, they also put a goal out there. I'm not looking to win anything, but do I wish to enjoy myself? If so, then I need to be fit enough to cross the line running, preferably with some wind in my lungs and a smile on my face.

I started with a local 5k road race. It was meant to be a simple goal. Short enough that I could sprint at a decent clip, build my confidence a bit as I got my head around a longer one later in the summer. In my preparation an injury popped up two weeks before the day. I rested some (a forced taper), then hobbled my way through my first race. I loved every painful second of it.

That is why I signed myself up for the Mountain Madness 25k, thinking that this huge jump in distance would definitely keep me on the up and up. I would have plenty of time to train as the race is not until the end of September.

As I am about to enter August, I'm terrified. My injured knee has played out longer than I would have liked. I work and work to get my ITB issue under control but pain still creeps up around the second mile. So my miles went down significantly in July. I got out onto the trail once in the month and it went okay. This bumped my confidence up, but I still have many more miles to go before I get through 15.5 miles of up and down.

This future race is keeping me brutally honest.

As I recover from some necessary surgery, I hope that my knee gets the necessary break. When all is well and I get back to the road and trail, there will not be time to rest and monitor, to break from the path that will get me through 15.5 kilometers of woodsy loops.

I am looking at a fairly motivated ramp up. I will have to force patience on my routine as best as possible so I don't aggravate the leg, but I will have to get my mileage up to a point where I can be confident on the start line. This will all be logged and analysed until I feel like I can finish running. No march of death for me come the 29th of September.

Laid Up and Waiting

By Steve Peterson

When I started running again about 5 months ago after many years off, I dealt with all the beginner walls, and got over each one; the first full mile run (no walking), hitting 2 miles, getting off the mill and out onto the street. I picked up miles each week, keeping pace fairly consistent.

I pushed it. I found a few of those "run forever" moments, where it was a time commitment or the possibility of a growing hotspot that kept me from an otherwise epic run. One day, about 7 weeks back, I decided to stay out. I kept going longer than I thought I could.

Two days later on my pre-sunrise route along the Jersey City waterfront, my right knee became a hot flash of pain that would not let up. My form fell apart and I hobbled home. Stairs were torture over the next few days. Each additional run brought the pain back.

I let up for a few days, then pushed again, finding the same aches and pain around mile 2. I started physical therapy. Things seemed to be getting better.

Then I chose to have an old anemia issue resolved with some uncomfortable surgery. Just when I wanted to be pushing again, I'm laid up and waiting for the pain of the surgery to subside. The pain is making me nuts, but worse is that I haven't run in 5 days. These 5 will most likely grow to 10. And I wait.